


Ne Regrette Rien

by non_tiembo_mala



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: (Brief) Angst, (almost? not quite?) Infidelity, Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jared, Closeted Character, Director Jensen, First Time, J2, Loss of Virginity, Love at First Sight, M/M, References to Homophobia, Rimming, Schmoop, So much schmoop (seriously have you met me??), Student Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala
Summary: Jensen Ackles is an Oscar nominated director. His professional life is the picture of success, but at forty-one, his personal life is anything but. Trapped in a marriage he never wanted to be in, bound by what he was always taught was "the right thing to do," Jensen has never known love, and long ago gave up the dream of it.Jensen is directing a play at a Dramatic Arts Academy in LA as a favour to a friend on staff. He's looking forward to the change of pace and the chance to scope out new talent. Enter Jared Padalecki, the school's star pupil. Seventeen years old and the recipient of a prestigious, hard-earned scholarship, he's the obvious choice for the play's lead. He's exactly the kind of fresh talent that Jensen is looking for as a director -- and maybe exactly what Jensen never knew he needed as a man who's lived his entire life without love.





	Ne Regrette Rien

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry, but I've got a lot to say about this one! 
> 
> Firstly, where did this baby come from? Real fucking life. Well, kinda. Inspired by, anyway. This is an excerpt from [the article](http://www.abc2news.com/newsy/frances-new-president-and-his-wife-have-a-rare-age-gap) I read online that spurred this fic:  
>    
>  _Emmanuel Macron will be the youngest president in France's history. But his relationship with soon-to-be first lady Brigitte is making headlines of its own. Brigitte is 24 years older than Emmanuel. The two met when he was in high school. She was directing him in a school play and was married with children. Brigitte has kept quiet on exactly when their romance started, though she did say Emmanuel vowed to marry her when he was 17._
> 
>  I simply could not resist, though I put my own spin on it, since politics is way less my thing. 
> 
> The fic references Arthur Miller's _The Crucible_ but you don't need to be familiar with it in any way. Nothing to do with the play is done in any great detail. The focus is all J2, baby!
> 
> Also, usually, infidelity is a big no no for me, so writing even this close to it was a first. For those wondering what I mean by "almost" in the tag -- spoiler? -- I mean that I skirt the issue as best I can, and next to no actual cheating goes on. 
> 
> This fic has been in the works for an embarrassing number of months. I've been working my way through this pregnancy and struggling to focus but finally -- FINALLY -- this has wrapped, and not a moment too soon! Baby is due next weekend, so this may be my last post for a little while until I figure out my life as a mama.
> 
> Holy shit, haha.
> 
> I have to give immense thanks to Tal for being a perfectly wonderful support for me during this entire pregnancy especially, but in particular a fantastic partner to bounce ideas off of with regard to this fic. She's encouraged me endlessly from the start. 
> 
> Thank you, too, to my trustworthy, constant beta. Jen, your keen eye and zest for the craft make me a better writer. Thank you for always pushing me to do my best work.
> 
> Anyways, the title means "I regret nothing" and is from Edith Piaf’s _Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien_ , which is both an appropriate song (check out the English translation of the lyrics [here](http://www.frenchlyricstranslations.com/non-je-ne-regrette-rien-edith-piaf-french-lyrics-and-english-translation/)) and a nod to the French roots of the original prompt.

As he stands outside her door, he hesitates briefly before knocking. He knows she doesn’t care, and as with most of their interactions, he doesn’t know why he bothers, except that he always does, because he always has – because he’s supposed to – and their life is nothing if not empty, meaningless routine. He gently raps his knuckles against the wood.

“Amelia?” Jensen calls out softly after a moment when she hasn’t answered. A non-committal sound from inside prompts him to continue. “I’m off to the Academy. Have a good day.”  
  
He pauses only a moment before he turns and walks away, unsurprised by the lack of response. He adjusts his tie as he makes his way down the hall, and pushes his glasses up on his nose as he hits the stairs, only to stop at the sound of her door opening.

Amelia steps through the open doorway to fix him with a pointed look, wrapped in a silk dressing gown with her make up halfway applied and her perfectly curled blonde hair pulled back off her face. “We have that charity auction at the Getty Center tonight. If you could not make us late.”  
  
Her expression is markedly accusatory, her tone inescapably irritated, but before Jensen can even open his mouth to respond, she’s turned on her heel and returned to her room, closing the door sharply behind her.

Jensen sighs and resumes making his way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Yes, dear,” he mutters to himself sardonically, the bitter taste of the robotic response on his tongue a familiar one. He’s mostly numb to it now, has been at least a little bit numb for most of his life, at least where she is concerned. His life – their life – is a charade, and it only functions because Jensen has played this role since before he realized he was even doing it: the perfect son, and then the perfect husband.

He smiles when he is supposed to, plays the part his parents expected him to, and even still kisses his wife on the cheek when in public and the situation calls for it, but that’s the closest thing to intimacy they’ve shared since the conception of their second child, who is currently a freshman at Stanford.

He’s not positive that Amelia knows he’s gay, but he thinks that she may suspect as much. Maybe she always has. Jensen’s heart has never been in it, not when he asked her out back when they were sixteen and his parents kept asking why he didn’t have a girlfriend yet, not when he couldn’t convince her to wait any longer and she wound up pregnant with their first, not when their families forced their marriage, and certainly not now, separate bedrooms and so many years later.  
  
Sometimes he wonders why she’s still with him if she’s even remotely as miserable as he is, but then, his professional success has won him both fame and fortune. She seems pleased enough to luxuriate in the lifestyle he affords them, nearly as much as she enjoys tormenting him. It may be a loveless life, but he supposes from her perspective it’s at least a comfortable and possibly even a glamorous one.

Sometimes he wonders why he’s still with her, because he is, indeed, miserable, but then he thinks of his parents, how he was raised and their expectations, all the things that landed him here in the first place, and none of those things have changed. Add to that their children – distant as they are, first shipped off to boarding schools at Amelia’s insistence and now away at university only calling for money or favours – and Jensen’s long ago resignation that this is it for him. He’s forty-one years old and his life is what it is; a part of him even believes it’s what he deserves. He’s a lonely man, but he puts his misery into his art, and fills his hollow spaces with his work. He used to have friends – _real_ friends, not just people he’s obligated to see – but Amelia saw to it early to put distance between them, isolating him as punishment for the unspoken truth. All he has outside his career is the life they’ve pretended to lead together, unfulfilling as it is. 

Sometimes he entertains ending it all – the sham that is his entire existence – but even that seems pointless. Despite it all, he does, at the very least, have his work. And he is no fool; he knows that the success he’s had – while he works hard and feels it is well-earned – is uncommon and just as much to do with luck, knowing the right people, and being in the right place at the right time.

Sometimes he thinks that Amelia – the emptiness of his personal life – is his just dues to the universe, the balance on the scales, because no one _really_ gets it all. This is real life, not a fairy tale – an attitude that pervades much of Jensen’s work. His films tend to be rooted in reality, with an often jaded, sometimes gritty presentation. His most recent piece, which was very well received last year at Cannes, was deeply tragic. Jensen tries not to acknowledge how much his own experience informs his artistic choices and his inability to portray any kind of happily ever after, but as with nearly everything in his life, that is simply another act of self-preservation.

Jensen startles as the timer goes off for the coffee brewing in his French press, a vice he clings to like the few precious threads of his sanity. He pours the imported roast into his brushed steel tumbler and takes a deep, heady breath of the aromatic steam before screwing on the lid. The tension of the perfunctory interaction with his wife bleeds out of him and he allows himself a small, genuine smile. He hasn’t directed a stage production in years, and while this arrangement is a favour to a business associate whose son attends the school, it will be nice to get back to the theatre as a venue and refreshing to work with young, as of yet undiscovered talent. He is actually looking forward to this.

He grabs his well-worn, post-it note covered copy of _The Crucible_ , slides it into his briefcase, and – coffee in hand – makes his way to the garage, his Aston Martin DB5, the Los Angeles Academy of Arts, and the next three months’ worth of reasons not be at home with Amelia.

 

\---

 

Jared’s phone buzzes where it’s sitting on his pillow and he hesitates to look away, his focus wanting to be completely on Daniel Day-Lewis where he’s monologuing on his computer screen.  He pauses it at the next natural break and reaches out so he can check the message.

            _Chad: Dude the horde isnt gonna defeat itself. Get online n help me!!!_

Jared smirks to himself. Chad is his best friend, and easily one of the things he left behind in San Antonio that he misses the most. Luckily, Chad won’t let them go long without talking even if Jared is a thousand miles away.

_Jared: You know I cant. Tmrw is my big audition. I’m doin prep. Youre on your own tonight!_

Jared has barely shut the screen off and moved to put the phone back down when it buzzes again.

            _Chad: Whatever man. U kno ur gonna get a part wonder boy. Quit watchin crappy movies n play w me!_  

Jared snorts, shaking his head at his friend even though Chad can’t see him.

            _Jared: This is why youre still in Texas and I’m here about to have the audition of my life haha ttyl Chad_

Jared is grinning when he shoots back the text, part of a long-running joke between them that Jared works way too hard and tries way too much, whereas Chad is smart and content to coast along on minimal effort.

_Chad: Screw u._

_Chad: Night_

_Chad: Break a leg buttmunch_

Jared knows he’s won tonight, and they’ll fight the horde together another day, but the homesick part of him is still glad Chad tries even when he knows Jared is busy. It helps. Jared puts his phone back down and returns to his umpteenth viewing of _The Crucible_ , a subtle jitter in his stomach as he presses play.

He’s only been in LA a couple weeks, moved from San Antonio where he’s lived his whole life in order to pursue acting. He had a great teacher back home who went to bat for him and he got enough attention and positive feedback on his performance in _Fiddler_ last year that he managed to earn an incredible, once in a lifetime experience: a full scholarship at the Los Angeles Academy of Arts, which has a renowned focus program for drama. 

He’s absolutely a fish out of water here; LA is nothing like home, and Jared has never been away from his family like this before, but he is an actor, after all. He puts on a brave face even while he’s kept mostly to himself. The people in this school aren’t like the ones from his high school back in Texas. They’re rich, entitled, and Jared doesn’t know how to relate to them. As the scholarship recipient, Jared drew a lot of attention when he first showed up, and he’s not sure his peers are interested in warming up to him based on the way they look at him when the teachers compliment or congratulate him. But that’s fine with Jared; he’s not here to make friends. He’s here to learn, and more importantly, take advantage of the most amazing, unbelievable opportunity he never would have had back home.

Jensen Ackles – _the_ Jensen Ackles – whose latest film held Jared completely entranced only to leave him shaken for days, is coming to the Academy to direct the school’s play this semester. Jared has spent the last three weeks using every second of his spare time to read and reread the play, watch the various adaptations, and practice delivering Proctor’s big speeches. This could be his moment, a chance to impress a real Hollywood director. While Jared has been on stage countless times since he was a little kid, he’s easily more terrified of tomorrow than he’s ever been for any other audition, but he’s equally determined. He _knows_ he can do this. He’s going to finish _The Crucible_ again tonight and then get a solid eight hours – if his nerves will allow it – so he’s well rested and ready to face Jensen Ackles tomorrow.

 

\---

 

As it turns out, there is no amount of preparation that could have made Jared ready to face Jensen Ackles, and it has nothing to do with Jared’s acting or his directing.

Jared is standing in line outside the auditorium with all the other students who will be auditioning for or participating in the production when he sees Jensen Ackles for the first time. He can only assume that’s who it is, anyway, because he’s talking with Mr. Armstrong – and he’s talking with Mr. Armstrong as they make their way down the hall towards the auditorium doors where the students are all waiting. Jared is smoothing down his uniform tie and then he looks up just in time to see them turn the corner coming towards him.

Jensen Ackles is _breathtaking_. Jared had no idea. He’s seen all of the man’s films that he could get his hands on, but he’d never really researched the man himself. He’s younger than Jared assumed he would be, no grey in his dark blonde, well-styled hair. He has smooth, tanned skin, and bright, piercing green eyes behind black, thick-rimmed glasses. His mouth is plush and Jared’s mind reels at all the places he suddenly imagines it. He’s wearing a tailored, charcoal grey tweed suit over a black dress shirt open at the neck, with a briefcase in one hand and what Jared assumes is coffee in the other. He and Mr. Armstrong approach the doors and as they pause a moment to continue speaking, standing in profile, Jared can’t help that his eyes drop lower, over the swell of Jensen Ackles’ ass in his well-fitted slacks, and then farther still, down the length of his long, slightly bowed legs.

Jared’s heart pounds a little harder in his chest – completely unrelated to stage fright – and then he looks up again just as Jensen Ackles glances past Mr. Armstrong and suddenly he’s looking _right_ at Jared. Jared’s face gets hot immediately; he feels caught out, transparent somehow for all the things he was thinking when he was taking in the sight of the man now staring back at him, but he can’t look away. His green eyes trap him there, frozen, and Jared holds his breath. Jensen Ackles’ lips part slightly, there’s a flicker of something across his face, and then he’s blinking, thick lashes fluttering as his lips purse back together and he nods, looking back down at Mr. Armstrong, who is holding the door open and gesturing for him to go ahead inside.

Just like that they’re gone again, but Jared stands there stunned, transfixed on the place that Jensen Ackles was occupying just moments before, seeing his ghost and feeling the heated weight of his gaze. Jared’s stomach is fluttering wildly and he _aches_ , suddenly and in a way he never has before, deep in his gut. He tries to take a slow, steadying breath the way he does to keep calm before going on stage, but he’s still trembling. He doesn’t even notice how out of it he is until the girl behind him – Gen, one of the only people he might consider a friend at school – nudges him gently and he snaps out of it, realizing with a start that the line has moved and there’s no one between him and the open doors of the auditorium. He clears his throat and tugs nervously at the cuffs of his blazer as he quickly gets going, hurrying to catch up with his peers and trying to shake the feeling that somehow his world is now irrevocably changed.

 

\---

 

Jensen’s breath sticks in his throat as though his heart has stuttered in his chest, the rest of his body halting abruptly and then scrambling to catch up. It’s really only a moment, but somehow it feels like an eternity when he absentmindedly looks past Curtis at the line of uniformed students outside the auditorium and locks eyes with the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.

He’s looking _right_ at Jensen, his messy bangs pushed just back out of his eyes, pretty pink lips open as though he might be just as stunned. He blinks feverishly when Jensen returns his gaze but doesn’t look away, even when a deep blush to rival the bright, bitten petals of his mouth blooms across his cheeks. Jensen’s heart resumes beating then, aggressive in the cage of his ribs, and he feels suddenly hot all over. As his trapped breath finally escapes, he just barely contains the undignified sound that wanted to run away along with it.

In that impossibly weighted moment, he’s knocked completely off his centre – reeling – but the second vanishes just as quickly as it came when Curtis’ hand lights on his arm to direct him inside the door he’s holding open for him. Jensen is the one blinking now, and he clears his throat as he follows Curtis inside – aching as he loses sight of the boy in the crowd – smoothing his suit jacket distractedly.

Jensen is also immensely grateful that he asked Curtis to address all the hopefuls today and decided to save his opening remarks for the first official cast and crew meeting. He’s shaking faintly as he takes his seat, and while Curtis is speaking, he tries to steady himself with slow, deliberate breaths. Despite the rapidly diminishing rational part of his brain advising against it, his eyes scan the large group of students to look for him.

Never in his life has a single moment, interaction – _person_ – affected him so profoundly. The boy’s face is etched inside his eyes and he never wants to lose sight of it – of _him_. Jensen feels _alive_ , such a vivid contrast to the shell of a life he’s been living since practically forever, and he’s sure he didn’t even remember that he _could_ feel like this.

Who _is_ this kid?

Jensen can’t find him in the group of eager faces before him, but if he’s auditioning for a role he’ll be front and centre soon enough. In the meantime, every atom in Jensen’s body is seemingly screaming for him, this _child_ – _Christ_ – and Jensen is, honestly, _terrified_.

 

\---

 

His name is Jared Padalecki, as it turns out. He’s barely seventeen – younger than Jensen’s own children for chrissake – and Jensen knows that should make him sick but it doesn’t, not even a bit.

They’d been well into the auditions – Jensen fully recovered after slipping into the comfortable, familiar director’s skin that has always served as his only _right_ in a life full of _wrong_ – when Curtis had excitedly leaned over to speak close to his ear. He went out of his way to introduce the boy (“A Texas native, like you!”) as the recipient of their prestigious scholarship with very promising talent.

He had not disappointed. Jensen knew before the audition was even over that Jared would get the play’s lead role and he would be outstanding.

Jensen also knew that he was doomed.

Jensen has been moved by talented artists before. He has had the opportunity to work with Oscar-winning actors and direct some scenes that have truly blown him away. Jared is undoubtedly talented but that is not what Jensen is stuck thinking about while he drives home after wrapping up with Curtis at the school.

Jensen is wrestling with himself for a reason, something, _anything_ to understand, but his mind remains stubbornly blank. From the first look they exchanged in the hallway, Jensen has been shaken up, but then Jared stepped on the stage in front of him and before he took a deep breath and dove into his audition, there was another moment. Shy, from under his bangs, his hands clenching in nervous fists at his sides, a tooth pressing into the pink plush of his bottom lip, and a flicker of heaven in his eyes when they inevitably locked with Jensen’s again. Jensen saw it there, everything that was happening to him was happening to Jared, too, and it’s further testament to the kid’s skills that he was able to get it together and impress Jensen like he did regardless.

He can’t get Jared out of his mind. His heart races as he drives, and he lets his knees fall apart even as he pushes a little heavily on the pedal, making room for the erection he hasn’t been able to control since he hit the road and his thoughts freely returned to the long, lean, intolerably beautiful boy who’s gotten under his skin, right into his veins and the blood that’s pumping hot and furiously throughout his body. This was easier at the school, when the presence of other students combined with Jensen’s friend and assistant director Curtis curtailed his imagination but now, alone in his car, he can’t get a grip.

He’s in quite a state by the time he parks the car and makes for the house, completely focused on getting out of these too-tight pants and into a shower where he can properly indulge the thoughts that have tormented him all the way through LA traffic. He holds his briefcase with one hand but unbuttons his jacket and starts in on his shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time, barely waiting to kick his door shut behind him before starting in on his belt. His bag _thuds_ as it hits the floor, and he pushes his shoes off while tossing his jacket and shirt on the bed. The belt follows, but as he goes for the button on his pants there’s a pounding on his door and he jumps, so lost in the overwhelming need to give in to everything Jared.

“Jensen?” The sound of her voice is muffled by the door but the irritated tone is not. “You are cutting it close. You have five minutes and then we need to be out of here!”  
  
Jensen barely stops the groan that wants to rip out of him. The goddamn fucking Gala. He stands frozen, fingers on his button, his dick heavy and throbbing angrily against his leg, face warm and breath short for how out of his mind he is over this sin he knows he can’t deny. Five minutes? His head is spinning. His hands are shaking and all manner of curses are brewing on the very tip of his tongue.

“Jensen! Do you hear me?” She pounds on the door again.

Jensen is frustrated and worked up and he wants to yell back at her but even now can’t bring himself to do it.

“I– yes. But– I’m not– I’m not well, Amelia,” he stutters out awkwardly instead. He isn’t trying to play it up but even to his own ears his voice sounds strained. “You– you’ll have to go without me. And convey my apologies.”

There’s quiet from the other side of the door, and Jensen’s heart pounds furiously in his chest as he waits for her response. He can imagine the scowl she’s wearing right now while she debates how to respond, whether to call his bluff and throw a fit, or just let it go this time.

“Please, Amelia,” Jensen tries, his voice breaking. When there’s still nothing, he goes for broke. “I’m sorry.”

He hears the huff she lets out then, and he knows this time he’s lucked out.

“Don’t wait up,” she tosses out sarcastically before Jensen can make out the sound of her footsteps retreating.

He lets out a long sigh, the breath he was holding in anxious anticipation, and resumes stripping with trembling fingers. He lets out an entirely different kind of sigh when he finally frees himself from the confines of his pants and briefs, and he palms himself with a bitten-off moan as he makes for his shower, hard and desperate like he can’t remember being in a long, long time.

 

\---  

 

Jared has to field a barrage of questions from his mom and dad on the subject of how the audition went, and the phone call is exhausting. He thinks the audition went well, but that’s not even what’s at the forefront of his mind. He can’t stop thinking about him – _Mr. Ackles_ , as Mr. Armstrong introduced him. Jared wants to talk about him, too – the way he _looked_ at him – but he knows he can’t. For all the acting he does, he’s always been transparent with his family. At least, when it comes to stuff like this. They knew he was gay long before he ever articulated it in so many words, and Jared knows if he starts talking about Mr. Ackles he won’t be able to stop, and they’d know  how he feels about _him_ , too. And they can’t.

Jared looked up Jensen Ackles as soon as he was alone in his dorm, before his parents called. He knows now that Jensen Ackles is forty-one, twenty-four years older than him, and he knows now that he’s married, and he has two kids both of whom are older than Jared. His heart sank and seemed to shrivel up in his chest as he read the little blurb about Jensen Ackles' personal life, but he can’t help it. Knowing it hasn’t changed anything. It doesn’t stop Jared from jerking off to pictures he found of a shoot Jensen Ackles did for Harper’s Bazaar last year, where he looks a hundred times more male model than director, and it doesn’t change how Jared feels, like he’s dying to be on the other end of Mr. Ackles' gaze again, to have Mr. Ackles' eyes on him, just him, and maybe– _definitely_ more than just his eyes. His hands, his lips, _fuck_ – he wants to know what it feels like to be pinned underneath him. Jared has never wanted anything the way he wants to be at Mr. Ackles' mercy, didn’t even know he could want like this. Mr. Ackles asked him to read a few additional lines during the audition, gave him just a tiny hint of direction, and Jared knew undeniably in that moment he’d do absolutely anything Mr. Ackles might ask him – that Jared _wishes_ he would ask him.

At night, he dreams of some of the things he wants Mr. Ackles to make him do, and he wakes up covered in the tacky evidence of his longing, mildly ashamed, aching, and anxious about how he’s supposed to face him again, much less act without coming in his pants if Mr. Ackles is going to be directing him.

 

\---

 

“ _Hello_! Earth to Jared?”

There’s a tug at his neck and Jared blinks, tearing his eyes away from Mr. Ackles to look at Gen, who’s leaning forward to pull at his tie, and who’s accusing, wide-eyed glare is both questioning and incredulous. He clears his throat as nonchalantly as he can manage and hopes his cheeks aren’t as pink as they are warm.

“S-sorry. What?” He asks after a moment, mind completely blank with no clue what she may have said before.

Gen narrows her eyes as she shakes her head at him, letting out a little laugh under her breath, then she raises an eyebrow quizzically and turns her head in the direction Jared had been staring.

She and Jared are sitting on the floor in the auditorium waiting out the scene immediately before theirs, and on stage Mr. Ackles has called cut to walk over to Tom and give him some feedback. He talks with his hands, so one is gesturing, directing Tom’s attention, while the other is on Tom’s shoulder. Just seeing it Jared feels a stab of jealousy and the phantom echo of what that hand might feel like on his shoulder. Sandy is on stage, too, nodding along with whatever Mr. Ackles is saying, and Gen takes in the picture they make a moment before turning back to Jared, still looking suspicious. 

It looks like she’s about to comment, so Jared quickly cuts her off.

“Sorry, Gen. You were saying?” He gives an expectant, apologetic expression and hers softens in response.

“Yeah,” she laughs again. “I was going to ask if you were ever gonna get that or just stare off into space all day? It’s been lighting up like crazy the last few minutes, Mr. Popular.”  
  
She’s teasing as she points at his cell phone. It’s sitting face up on the floor between them, and as they glance down at it together, the screen lights up again and reveals the umpteenth in a series of texts from Chad. Jared snorts. He’s hardly anyone’s definition of popular.

“Yeah,” he reaches for his phone. “I just… got a little lost in my thoughts for a minute.”

“Uh huh,” Gen looks unconvinced but lets it slide, even as Jared pushes a hand through his hair while reading over Chad’s multitude of messages, most of which are harassing because Jared isn’t answering him fast enough. It’s only their first week of rehearsals so Chad is in for a shock if he thinks Jared is going to have free time in the near future.

Jared relents and messages back essentially that, grinning as he taps out the words on the screen.

“Boyfriend back home?”

Jared’s eyes snap up from his phone and Gen hits him with a subtle smirk that says she somehow already knows the answer to that question, and the other, more loaded question within it.

“What? No, ugh,” Jared’s gut reaction takes over at the thought. _Chad_ as his boyfriend, no fucking way. It actually gets him laughing. He loves Chad, sure – his idiot best friend – but not like _that_. “My incredibly annoying best friend, actually.”  
  
“Ah,” Gen nods. There’s an easy, quiet moment then, one that says Jared has still confirmed – by way of not elaborating – that _boyfriend_ would still be the right choice of words. She smiles at him kindly, silently accepting, and Jared feels relaxed and comfortable with Gen in a way he hasn’t felt with most people. He’s not sure what drew her to pick him out of the crowd – or rather, take pity on him as the new kid, really – but he’s glad she did.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s run it once more with all that in mind, and then we’ll move on to scene three.”  
  
Mr. Ackles’ smooth voice reaches Jared’s ears and he can’t help but turn toward the source. Mr. Ackles is nodding at Tom and Sandy as he steps away, talking to the whole group while they reset the scene. No matter how many times Jared looks, Mr. Ackles never stops being as beautiful as the first time he saw him. Jared sighs subconsciously, and in that moment, Mr. Ackles happens to turn and look right at him. Their eyes lock for the briefest seconds – just long enough that Jared feels that heat stir low in his belly, and as Mr. Ackles looks away, Jared can’t help but wonder. And hope.

Mr. Ackles returns to his director’s chair and leans over the arm to discuss something quietly with Mr. Armstrong, so Jared finally tears his eyes away. Gen is watching him thoughtfully and Jared has this strange feeling that she can see right through him, so instead of facing her he busies himself on his phone again.

She doesn’t say anything, and Jared can see from his periphery that she’s shifted focus and is watching the scene play out on stage now instead. Jared keeps looking at his phone, but as he dodges Chad’s attempts to get him to commit to late night gaming after rehearsal, his mind wanders elsewhere, to the same place – _person_ – it always does these days.

“Gen, Jared,” Mr. Ackles calls out some time later (Jared wasn’t really paying attention), and just hearing his name on Mr. Ackles’ lips makes Jared’s stomach flutter. “We’re onto scene three now. Come on up here.”  
  
They tuck their phones into their backpacks and as they stand up, Gen snorts and leans to straighten his tie – askew because she had been tugging on it – and then they approach the stage and hop up easily. Jared is keenly aware that Mr. Ackles is watching him, and while it makes him jittery, it also makes him brave. He meets Mr. Ackles’ gaze head-on as they walk towards him. Their production’s Betty is getting herself into position to play unconscious on the bed, and when Gen and Jared stop just the other side of Mr. Ackles’ clipboard, Mr. Ackles’ eyes linger on Jared’s another fraction of a second longer than they should.

He starts in talking about the scene, and Jared is listening, but inside he’s swimming in the heat that always seems to be his body’s answer to Mr. Ackles’ intense green eyes. Gen confirms their marks, and then Mr. Ackles is turning away again. Gen grabs Jared by the elbow and guides him to his mark, a vaguely lascivious grin on her face as she already starts to get into character.

“Okay, guys. And… action!” Mr. Ackles shouts, and Gen jumps right into her lines.

They make it a good way through the scene before Mr. Ackles calls cut. Both Jared and Gen look over to him, and he wears a small, knowing smile as he steps onto stage towards them.

“That was going very well, both of you. Jared, you haven’t done it much but you need to be aware, just in case as we go forward. You’ve got to keep that drawl in check. It made itself known on your ‘hardly’ just now. Salem’s a long way from Texas.”  
  
He’s angled towards Jared in such a way when he finishes speaking that the lightning fast wink and teasing grin he shares is just for him. Jared might have forgotten how to breathe momentarily and his mouth goes dry but he recovers quickly.

“I– I didn’t realize. Sorry, Mr. Ackles. I’ll be sure to pay more attention,” he promises earnestly.

“Not to worry, Jared. It was subtle, but the devil’s in the details, as they say,” Mr. Ackles looks fond and he leans in a little closer, even though he clutches his clipboard between them – a barrier that Jared wants to set fire to – instead of touching him casually like he seems to with everyone else. “I just wanted to make you aware. It sounded just that little too much like home.”  
  
Mr. Ackles is still smiling as he leans back, and Jared is quite sure that was spoken low enough that Gen couldn’t hear. He knows what Mr. Ackles meant but the way he said it like it was a secret just for Jared, and there was just something about it that felt… Jared can’t put his finger on it, not even as the words _like home_ echo in his ears, and he deliberately avoids looking at Gen again until Mr. Ackles has sat back down and is gesturing for them to start again at the top. Jared forces himself back into character as Gen starts up Abigail’s and Proctors’ dialogue, but acting under Mr. Ackles is without a doubt the biggest challenge and most thrilling torture he’s ever known.

 

\---

 

Surprisingly, it’s much easier to make it work than Jared feared it would be. Whatever Mr. Ackles does to him doesn’t stop or let up, but the audience of Jared’s peers goes a long way to helping Jared avoid embarrassing himself. That, and the only thing he might want as badly as Mr. Ackles is to show the man that he made the right choice casting him. His desire to prove himself gets him through the moments that would otherwise be the most difficult. Mr. Ackles gives excellent, concise direction, and his instruction helps Jared get into character in ways he never has before. That, too, is a saving grace, a place for Jared to hide, especially when Mr. Ackles’ coaching increasingly comes in quiet words only for Jared, spoken close enough that Jared can sometimes smell the intoxicating scent of Mr. Ackles’ cologne, close enough to threaten the fictional world they’re creating on stage.

Jared feels as though Mr. Ackles’ attention edges him into this incredible creative space and he can tell he’s thriving there, but it also makes it hard to exist outside it. He feels unhinged, and when they’re not at rehearsal, it – and Mr. Ackles – is all he can think about. He wonders if this is what it’s like to be an addict, getting high off being close to Mr. Ackles and an unsteady, antsy mess in between hits.

Mr. Ackles is an impressive speaker and director, not that there was ever any doubt. He’s so composed and elegant in every way, articulate and commanding, but Jared sees something else, too, something he thinks he’s not meant to. He wonders at first if he’s delusional, his own worsening desperation feeding a fantasy, but more and more he’s convinced that’s not the case. Mr. Ackles’ eyes linger on him – he swears he can fucking _feel_ it, every time – make him shiver and get weak in the knees. As close as he gets to him in order to give Jared quiet guidance, Mr. Ackles _never_ touches him, not in the casual, nothing sort of way his hands seem to always find the arms or shoulders of other cast members. And Jared spends more time looking at Mr. Ackles than he knows, strictly speaking, is normal. It means he sees moments when it’s clear Mr. Ackles doesn’t know he’s being observed, and something weary and a lot like sadness settles on his beautiful features. He absentmindedly spins the worn gold band on his left hand while sipping his coffee, and even though Jared can’t explain why, it makes his heart _hurt_.

Jared finds himself growing brave by how consumed he is with want for Mr. Ackles, how Mr. Ackles seems to watch him – the heat of his gaze that feels so much like an echo of how Jared feels – and soon fantasizing about being alone with him starts to be followed up with ideas of how he might make it happen. Jared has no idea what he’s doing and he knows that it’s dangerous, but it becomes more and more clear to him with every passing day: he doesn’t have a choice. He’ll risk it all – the role, his scholarship, maybe even his future career. He wants to see Mr. Ackles _really_ smile, and he wants to be the reason why.

 

\---

 

Another couple of weeks and a handful of rehearsals go by before Jared finds his courage – or reaches his limit, he’s honestly not sure which it is driving him most at this point. They are less than a month to opening night. The play should be the most important thing in his life, but it isn’t and Jared can’t think straight. Even Chad, whom he speaks to primarily through text, has asked him what the hell is going on lately. It’s been easy enough to brush off as stress from the show, but he feels bad lying to his best friend. It’s just… what is he supposed to say? _Actually, Chad, I think I’m in love. With my director. The famous Jensen Ackles who is twenty years older than me, married, and out of my league in every way._ Yeah fucking right. That would go over real well.

It isn’t lost on him how crazy this is, but Jared has always been a bit of a romantic. This must be love, he figures. And as he waits outside the auditorium for Mr. Ackles to finish up with Gen, he’s nervous but there’s an odd sense of calm helping him keep together because this is _it_. He’s really going to get Mr. Ackles alone and– well, actually, he really doesn’t know much more than that but the weighted feeling in his gut tells him he’ll know more after, anyway. He leans against the wall, hears the muffled end of their conversation from far within the room as they bid each other goodbye, and taps his foot anxiously, tugging at the sleeves of his blazer.

“Jared!” Gen says as she steps outside and sees him, momentarily startled, but then her expression somehow softens and becomes knowing all at once. “Whatcha doin’?”  
  
The look she gives him makes him wary but he steels himself against it, because he has perfectly legitimate reasons for hanging around (even if they aren’t why).

“I was just hoping to catch Mr. Ackles before he left. For some clarification on how he wants me to play Proctor’s confession.” He delivers it easily, and feels a tiny swell of pride because he can do this, he can. Gen just smiles at him a little wider.

“Uh huh,” she finally answers, hands on her hips. “Whatever. Go get him, tiger.”

She winks, then wags her eyebrows at him, and Jared is so stunned his face gets hot almost as fast as his jaw drops. He starts to splutter out a terrified, revealing _what_ but Gen just laughs and reaches for his arm.

“Oh, please. Like I can’t see the way you look at each other. You’re a goner. And that man _wants_ you, Jay. Who would say no to _that_?!” She fans herself to make her point but Jared still can’t process what she’s saying – his brain stuck on the idea that Mr. Ackles wants him, enough that even Gen thinks she knows – and he keeps gaping at her, open mouthed like an idiot. “I’m not going to say anything, honest. He’s not really a teacher here anyway, right? And who cares. _He’s Jensen Ackles._ I just want all the dirty details, okay? Have pity on a girl, will ya?”  
  
She’s grinning again and it’s all Jared can do to nod at her and clear his throat.

“Amazing,” she says, apparently satisfied. She leans in close, standing up on her tippy toes in a mock attempt to whisper in his ear, still too high for her even though he instinctively starts to lean down to meet her. “Good luck.”  
  
She wanders away after that and Jared can only stand there watching her go, wide-eyed and head spinning. He tries not to panic, tries not to wonder how obvious he is to anyone else, hoping Gen is just weirdly perceptive or has an overactive imagination. His heart is pounding just this side of out of control, almost unbearably loud in the otherwise quiet and vacant hallway, when he hears a shuffling from inside the auditorium and it snaps him out of it. _Mr. Ackles._ This is his chance. He’s got to get in there, now, before Mr. Ackles leaves.

He takes a deep breath, straightens his tie, and makes himself take those steps, pushing through the door and letting it close behind him.

Mr. Ackles is on the far side of the room standing at the edge of the stage, gathering up papers and notebooks to slip into his open briefcase. He doesn’t seem to have heard Jared come in, engrossed in his task, so Jared takes the moment to breathe again, his eyes fixed on the unreal object of his obsession. He swallows thickly and clears his throat as he moves towards his director.

“Mr. Ackles?”

Mr. Ackles turns toward him at the sound, green eyes bright even from across the room. Jared tentatively shortens the distance between them.

“Jared,” Mr. Ackles answers, blinking in surprise, then straightening up fully and fidgeting with the knot of his tie as he finds his composure. He’s wearing a cream sweater that looks soft as butter with the sleeves rolled to his elbows over a grey collared shirt and charcoal tie, handsome and immaculate as ever. “What can I do for you?”

Jared draws closer to him as though falling into orbit, pulled in by forces completely out of his control. He stops just short of being dangerously too close, by some small miracle. Mr. Ackles just watches him quietly through the lenses of his glasses, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly in question, both of his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. For one too-long second, Jared can only look back at him, transfixed by Mr. Ackles’ gaze, until he finds his voice.

“Um, I–” he clears his throat and looks around anxiously in a way he knows is telling before making himself look at Mr. Ackles again, which may be a mistake after all. Mr. Ackles’ own face has a faint shade of pink to it, and while his expression is blank, it looks about as ready to crumble as Jared’s. “I had hoped, maybe, if you had a minute, we could…”

Jared’s heart is thunder in his ears and his mouth is suddenly dry. His breath is shaky and there’s a voice in his head screaming _no_ , _don’t!_ but it’s lost under the noise of it all. Jared takes another step closer and it’s unmistakably deliberate. Without words, he’s starting to say what he doesn’t know how to, and Jensen’s face falters, his lips part slightly on a thinly veiled gasp, and Jared’s eyes don’t miss the bob of Mr. Ackles’ Adam’s apple in his throat.

“…go over how you want me to handle Proctor’s confession.” Jared would be fucking pleased with himself for getting the lie out but he can barely think that far. He’s in Mr. Ackles’ space, so much so that the man tried in vain to back up, but only found himself against the stage with nowhere to go. Jared is terrified, and at any minute he wouldn’t be surprised if his heart gave out completely and he dropped to the ground at Mr. Ackles’ feet, but he’s come too far now to back down.

Mr. Ackles has to feel what’s happening here – Jared really hasn’t been imagining things – because he takes too long to answer, and when he finally clears his throat as if he’s about to finally say something, his hands come up out of his pockets. It’s clear he means to push Jared away at first, his palms up defensively as they move towards Jared, but as soon as they connect with Jared’s arms, just below his shoulders, Mr. Ackles lets out a shaky exhale and his fingers close around Jared instead.

“Jared,” Mr. Ackles rumbles, his voice low and rough in a way that makes heat pool instantly in Jared’s gut. Jared has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a pathetic sound. Mr. Ackles only says his name but it’s at once a warning and an invitation – Jared hears all the notes of Mr. Ackles’ conflict in that tiny sound, and it’s just enough for him.

Jared shuffles forward awkwardly, knocking his feet into Mr. Ackles’, and he reaches for him with trembling hands. He has to brace himself lest he completely shake apart, and while Mr. Ackles’ grip on him tightens he doesn’t push or pull, just _lets_. He allows Jared to clumsily tilt his chin and press their lips together.

Jared has only ever kissed one boy before, and it wasn’t particularly special. It never went anywhere. He doesn’t have a lot of experience, and when Mr. Ackles doesn’t immediately kiss him back, he panics. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s not sure when he last remembered to take a breath, and he could be about to pass out at any moment. He pulls back sharply, not far, just enough to suck in a desperate breath, but then Mr. Ackles’ has let go of his shoulders and there’s a large, warm hand sliding up his jaw.

“Jared,” Mr. Ackles says again, this time breathy and quiet, just before he leans in and kisses Jared back. Jared does whimper this time, he can’t help it. Mr. Ackles is _kissing him_ , and when his tongue edges past Jared’s lips, Jared thinks he could very easily die from this. Jared feels hot and weak all over, and as he melts into the kiss he lets himself melt against Mr. Ackles’ body, too. Mr. Ackles’ other hand is in the small of his back, and when their hips connect, Jared can feel Mr. Ackles’ dick, hot and hard where it presses against him, and it makes him shudder and whimper again.

Then Mr. Ackles is pushing him away, putting just enough distance between them. Jared blinks, surprised, and pants, trying to catch his breath while Mr. Ackles does the same.

“God, Jared…” Mr. Ackles sounds pained, and he puts a hand through his hair, tugging in a way that makes him look unhinged when coupled with the flush in his face and the heavy rise and fall of his chest. “We– I…”

He looks at Jared with unmasked agony, and Jared’s heart swells, dangerously close to breaking because he thinks he knows what’s coming.

“I know, M–Mr. Ackles. That you’re–” he gestures weakly to Mr. Ackles’ left hand. “But… I don’t care. I– you… Please. _Please_.”

He doesn’t know what else to say, how he can possibly use words to tell Mr. Ackles what he’s feeling. Mr. Ackles just looks at him, their eyes locked, assessing, and Jared’s heart is in his throat. Finally, Mr. Ackles sighs and looks away, just for a moment before reaching for Jared again. Jared stumbles forward, his face chasing Mr. Ackles’ hand, pressing into his palm completely on instinct. Mr. Ackles’ strokes his cheek with his thumb.

“Jared, I won’t lie to you. This, this is… something. It’s not… I haven’t…” Mr. Ackles laughs and looks away again, almost like he’s embarrassed, and Jared isn’t sure he follows but for the briefest moment he’s a little less scared than he was, a fleeting sense of hope until– “But I can’t do this. Not… not like this.”

Mr. Ackles just keeps caressing his face, and Jared struggles to think past all the places where they’re touching, confused, not sure what Mr. Ackles is trying to tell him.

“You mean… with me? Because… I’m– I’m–” _Seventeen. Younger than your kids. Your student._ Jared isn’t sure what to say first. There are so many reasons why this is a terrible idea and suddenly he feels foolish and frightened again, all the insane bravado of the moments leading to this completely spent.

“No. Well, yes. But also because of me. None of it is fair. Just… go home tonight. Sleep. Let me– give me time. Can you do that, Jared? I know you can act through this. You’ve been acting through this. Can you keep doing that? For me?”

Mr. Ackles pleads gently with his voice and his eyes, and Jared still isn’t sure what he’s asking for – just knows he’s being turned away – but the way Mr. Ackles asks… what choice does Jared have? He’s known from the first he’d do whatever Mr. Ackles might ask of him. He just… wishes it were something – _anything_ – but this.

He doesn’t trust himself with words, so instead he nods and fights the way his eyes want to well up, refuses to act as young as Mr. Ackles must think him. He grapples to find a facade to hide behind, any armour at all that could possibly protect him after being so exposed.

“Okay. Okay,” Mr. Ackles whispers, nodding as well. Jared is still frozen in place, and Mr. Ackles’ face softens as he watches him. He must be able to see right through him. He smiles sadly and leans in, kissing Jared on the cheek while Jared’s heart seems to shrivel up in his chest.

Jared just stands there, still unable to make himself take the first step out of this moment, away from this thing he can’t have but has to somehow live through.

“Good night, Jared,” Mr. Ackles says softly, trying to break Jared out of his trance; it’s just enough. Jared has been properly dismissed now, and finally, without conscious thought, his feet start to move, turning him and making for the door. Mr. Ackles doesn’t say another word.

Jared is hollow and heavy all at once, and by the time he kicks off his shoes and crawls fully clothed under his covers, he’s vaguely aware that he has no idea how he even got back to his dorm.

 

\---

 

Jensen thought it would take longer, honestly, for him to make a decision. His personal life has been a sham and a miserable one at that for the majority of his life. He’s been unhappy for so long what difference is a little longer? And yet, he’s almost sure by the time he gets home.

It was a matter of time with Jared, really. Jensen has been clinging to his restraint by a thread for weeks now, kept in check possibly only by the remnants of the same fears that cornered him into a marriage with a woman he never loved, fears of judgement and what _should_ be. But deep down he knew if given the chance he couldn’t deny the boy or how he feels about him. When he looked up in the auditorium to see Jared standing there, alone, coming for him – he knew it was over; this was their breaking point. God, the way Jared looks at him. He’s beautiful and genuine, transparent and brazen in a way that Jensen can’t help but admire and absolutely want to succumb to. He will succumb to – would have tonight, except… there’s already too much at stake here, too many reasons for this to be wrong, and Jensen is determined to do it right.

It nearly killed him to do it – send Jared away – especially because he could see that the boy doesn’t understand what Jensen intends to do, could see that he was hurting him, but he’ll make it up to him, if Jared will let him.

Even if he’s lost his chance with Jared, Jensen’s heart and mind are made up as he walks into the house. He has to do this for himself. Before Jared, he was resigned to the life he always led. Now, somehow, Jared has reminded him what _life_ feels like, just by _existing_. And then– the soft press of his inexperienced lips, the taste of his certainly virgin mouth– _fuck_. Jensen didn’t know he was still capable of yearning like this. That revelation alone is enough to help manifest his resolve: things have to change. He cannot go on like this.

He sets his things down in the kitchen with a surprising calm. The house is quiet, but her car is in the garage, so Jensen makes his way upstairs. He has no clear notion as to what he’s going to say but he knocks on her door.

“Amelia? May I come in?” There’s a moment before she answers.

“You may,” comes from behind the door, and Jensen turns the handle to enter.

Amelia is in her pajamas, lounging on her bed. She looks at him from over the book she’s reading, wearing a questioning expression because it’s not like him to come to her; usually it’s the other way around. Something must show on his face because her eyes narrow and she slowly closes her book and sets it down, deliberately sitting up.

“Jensen?” She prompts, wary.

He looks at her a moment more, sees their life together – his life – their distant children and decades of memories that bring him so little joy, and the calm he feels only persists. This is _right_ , and long overdue.

“I’m leaving you, Amelia,” he states plainly, and her eyes widen in surprise, though her lips purse and twist up in a strange parody of a smile, like somehow she knew. “I don’t want a fight. The house is yours, if you want it. I want little apart from my car and personal belongings – the rest you can keep to do with as you like.”

He stands his ground firmly at the foot of her bed, feeling free, as though a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying has been taken from him, and he takes an easier breath even as she watches him with sharp, assessing eyes. When she fails to say anything, he can’t help but feel obliged to continue.

“Amelia, our life together has been–” he falters, not knowing exactly what to say, because it hasn’t been sunshine and she knows this “– trying, at times, but not entirely–”

“Spare me the bullshit, Jensen,” she cuts him off abruptly. “My heart hasn’t been in this marriage in years, and yours? Looking back, I’m not convinced it ever was. After all this time, like I didn’t know this was coming. Like I don’t know what you _are_.”

Jensen’s eyes narrow at that and his fists clench at his sides, his body tense and defensive. His expression must be questioning because–

“That you like dick, Jensen. Always have, haven’t you? It certainly explains a lot. Honestly, I thought you’d call it all off when the kids both left. The only surprise here is that you took so long to find your balls. Even I thought you had more to you than that, and yet here we are, years later, still miserable, still together.”

She talks with her hands, gestures to the space between them and her tone is harsh even now. Then her eyes widen in newfound understanding and she fixes him with a knowing, lewd glare.

“You met someone,” it’s a statement, not a question, and Jensen hates that despite how fractured they’ve been for so long, she can still read him, still _knows_ him. He feels his cheeks warm and knows there’s nothing he can say or do to deny it. He huffs in frustration and she laughs, the sound grating. “Of course.”

She stands up now and comes toward him. Jensen doesn’t move but he does look away as she enters his space, feeling vaguely threatened because of the way she leans in too close.

“You would need someone else to find your balls for you,” she hisses, on tiptoe so he feels her breath on his lips. Her tone is accusatory, and Jensen bristles, starting to answer impulsively, giving himself away.

“We haven’t– I wouldn’t– not yet…” he trails off. He doesn’t owe her an explanation, especially when she probably doesn’t believe him either way. She stays where she is even as she makes a disbelieving _tsking_ noise with her tongue. He won’t look at her, won’t give her the satisfaction of reacting again while she goads him. She hovers there, her lips just brushing his, waiting. For a long, uncomfortable moment they stand like this, and Jensen wonders if she really does want to kiss him one last time or if she’s just trying to make his skin crawl on purpose. Finally, she stands back, giving him some space so he can breathe, and he dares look at her. She doesn’t look happy or sad, really – just, is. Tired, maybe.

“Well, congratulations. I hope you’re very happy together,” she says finally, crossing her arms over her chest, and Jensen honestly can’t tell if she’s being serious or furious in an eerily contained way. “I’m keeping the house, obviously. You can collect the rest of your things later.”

The look she gives him now is decisive and conveys clearly that he is welcome to take his leave. He nods, a little stunned actually, because he feared this would go much worse, and he makes for the door. He stops just before pulling it shut and looks back at her. She’s watching him still, and he hesitates just another heartbeat.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. She doesn’t react.

“I am sorry,” he adds gently. It’s true, for his part. It was a life that never should have been, really. Jensen sees that clearly now, but he can’t take it back. And she could have always left him, too, but it’s not like she didn’t get _anything_ out of their charade. He does hope she’ll find someone who’ll love her the way he never could. For the first time, he entertains the thought that she already has, and he’s just never noticed. Her stoic expression softens for just a moment and she nods, looking for the first time in a long time like the girl he met back in Texas, back at school, and then she waves her hand to really dismiss him.

He goes to his room to pack a suitcase with clothing and the things he’ll need for the immediate future. He’s not sad as he chooses which things to take nor when he places his wedding band on the dresser nor when considers the room – house, _life_ – he’s leaving behind. He only has a new life – _his life_ – ahead, and maybe – just _maybe_ – if he’s lucky, he’ll have Jared, too.

 

\---

 

Jared can’t make himself get out of bed the next morning. He didn’t intend to cut class, but he feels terrible, his stomach tight and twisted, and there’s no way he has the strength to conjure up a mask to properly hide behind. He doesn’t leave the dorm for breakfast, laying awake and staring at the ceiling, listening to the muffled noises of his classmates moving in the hallway outside his door, getting ready for their days.

He dreamt of Mr. Ackles last night, but it wasn’t a dream like he had before, the kind that would make him embarrassed in the morning except for how good he feels. Instead, Mr. Ackles was everywhere Jared was, or, Jared was everywhere Mr. Ackles was, anyway. It was like Jared was a fly on the wall, almost. He was always so close but Mr. Ackles couldn’t see him or hear him, never responded no matter what Jared said, how loud, or if he tried to touch him. He was a ghost. He woke up after watching Mr. Ackles kiss a faceless woman, that sick feeling in his stomach so strong he worried he might be sick, might actually be tasting bile at the back of his mouth, and his eyes burned with more tears he refused to let fall. He refused to cry about this. He would not act like a child, would not be what he feared Mr. Ackles saw him as, maybe the reason he turned him away.

He does nothing all day but lay about, in and out of fitful sleep, and ignores the multitude of Chad’s texts that started last night when he failed to message him back before bed. The texts have gone through all the stages of joking, irritation, and now, possibly genuine worry on his friend’s part. He doesn’t have anything to say to him, or anyone. Not today.

He knows he can’t stay in his room like this forever, but classes finish and it’s time for rehearsal – Jared doesn’t go. Just today, he tells himself. He needs the breather. Just enough time to figure out if it’s even worth staying. He’s been thinking about home all day, and how Texas doesn’t have Mr. Ackles in it, and whether or not that’s what he wants, if he can face him again after all.

He hates that he’s even considering it – going home. He worked for this his whole life and he’s so close to where he wants to be, but somehow it all pales in comparison to how he feels about Mr. Ackles. Mr Ackles who told him to go home. Keep acting.

There’s a gentle knock at Jared’s door and he jumps, blinking as he sits upright.

“Jared? It’s Gen. Come on, open up,” the request is spoken kindly, enough that while he wants to ignore her, Jared makes himself get up and shuffle to the door.

“Oh, sweetie,” she says when she sees him. She slips inside quickly – not supposed to be in the boys’ corridor – and hugs him before he has a chance to argue. “You look terrible. Talk to me, Jay.”

Jared sighs and looks down at her as she lets him go. The thought of saying it out loud – any of it – makes him feel stupid all over again.

“He asked after you, you know,” she offers when Jared says nothing. Jared can’t help but perk up to hear it, even if his heart still stings. “He seemed worried. It’s not like you to miss rehearsal.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like me to hit on a professor and get reject–” Jared cuts himself off on a gasp, embarrassed for putting it out there, and the ache in his chest throbbing anew to have almost admitted it out loud, making it that much more real. He turns away to hide his face from her and she reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder sympathetically.

She gives him a moment before speaking again.

“Jay, what happened?”  
  
Jared sighs again before turning around to face her. “He told me he can’t. Told me to go, asked me to keep acting. As in, the show must go on, I guess.”  
  
She looks apologetic. “What are you going to do?”  
  
“I don’t know, honestly. I can’t… I’ve never–” he can’t make himself say it.

“You’re in love with him,” she says it for him because apparently he is that transparent. His eyes well up instantly and he swallows hard, nodding.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” she whispers, and hugs him again. She doesn’t let go right away, just stays like that, and after a beat he lets himself hug her back, bending to bury his face in her shoulder. He does cry a little then, silently, and if she notices, she doesn’t say anything, just holds him and rubs his back. He’d been hiding from the world and what happened all day and he’s suddenly very grateful she’s here.

When he’s calmed down and trusts himself to keep it together, he finally lets her go.

“I can only imagine how you feel and how hard it might be, but you cannot quit and go home, Jared Padalecki,” she says firmly. Jared blinks.

“W-what?” He stutters out. How does she always  _know?!_

“Mr. Ackles still wants you in the play, obviously. And you’re easily the most talented actor in this school. You fucking _earned_ this place, and this role, and you cannot quit now. You will just have to act your way through this. Fake it till you make it, right? If anyone can do this, it’s you. Act so well that Mr. Ackles will regret turning you down every time he sees you on stage, yeah?”  
  
Jared doesn’t feel even a fraction of the confidence Gen is projecting on his behalf right now, but he knows she’s right. He’s already lost Mr. Ackles. If he gave up on the rest, it would mean losing everything.

“Promise me you’ll come to class tomorrow? And rehearsal after?”

“Okay. I promise,” Jared finally agrees, and Gen smiles brightly.

“I will hold you to it, Jared. I might be small but I am mighty!” She laughs, pretending to put her fists up like she’ll fight him, then playfully hitting his shoulder. He laughs, too, and it feels nice. Maybe he can do this.  
  
“Alright, I’m outta here, before we both get caught and expelled or something,” she winks and waves as she slips through the door.  
  
Jared stares at the door long after she’s gone, and that empty feeling is still there, the heavy one that set in when he walked away from Mr. Ackles last night, but Jared is going to try. He is. Tomorrow he will pretend to be Jared from before – before Mr. Ackles.

 

\---

 

Jensen watches the door to the auditorium obsessively as the cast and crew file in after class, his heart in his throat the whole while. When Gen comes through the doors with Jared following closely on her heels, Jensen breathes a huge sigh of relief even as his heart aches. Jared looks like he hasn’t slept in the two days since Jensen saw him last, a little pale with dark circles under his eyes, and Jensen has worked in the industry long enough to know when a person is pretending to be someone else – has done it enough himself his entire life to see Jared doing it now.

Jensen has thought of little else since taking up residence at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, not too far from the school. He hasn’t even called a realtor yet, leaving it to the weekend in favour of breathing in deeply his newfound freedom and letting Jared properly take up all the room in his thoughts and his heart. He wasn’t entirely surprised that Jared wasn’t at rehearsal yesterday but his worry was more profound and alarming than he expected. He was only mildly eased when he approached Gen as they wrapped and she reassured him she would check in.

Now that he’s here, and Jensen has the vague hope of a plan, they just have to get through the next few hours. He tries to offer Jared a private smile as they get started, but Jared is decidedly avoiding him while he can. Jensen can’t really blame him. A few more hours and Jensen will make this right, or try to, anyway. Just a few more short hours.

 

\---

 

Jared performs admirably on stage, like nothing had happened between them. It’s a marvel to watch and Jensen is more impressed – and more in love – than he thought he could be. Jared is a rare creature, and Jensen is increasingly jittery as the rehearsal draws to a close. As the students pack up their things, Jensen finds his voice as he fully inhabits his role as director, and doesn’t hesitate to venture towards Jared and Gen where they’re putting on their blazers in anticipation of leaving.

“Jared?” He ventures, and both of them turn to face him. Jared’s cheeks pink up visibly but otherwise he appears stoically unaffected. Jensen’s pride only blooms further.

“Yes, Mr. Ackles?” Jared answers quietly.

 If you could hang around after rehearsal, there’s a couple scenes I wanted to go over with you,” Jensen delivers the request easily, and Jared hesitates a moment to answer, until Gen nudges him.

“Yeah– I mean, yes. Of course,” Jared finally agrees, and Jensen nods, then turns to head back to his mess of notes and director’s chair, but not before catching a revealing look from Gen to Jared out of the corner of his eye. So maybe Gen knows. Well, if this goes their way, eventually… everyone will know, so. Jensen tells himself it doesn’t matter. Nothing has rained down on him since the other day, so neither of them have said anything yet. And the production is speeding towards opening night. It won’t be long now.

Jensen busies himself with his papers, keeping Jared in his peripheral, Jared who makes a show of taking his time while all the other students file out until it’s just him and Gen and Jensen. Jared and his friend have a hurried, hushed conversation before Gen leaves, too, and then they’re alone again. The heavy thud and click of the auditorium doors echoes in the big room and Jensen stops what he’s doing to turn and face Jared fully. He smiles encouragingly and gestures with a tilt of his head for Jared to come over.

Jared walks over silently, eyes on Jensen the whole time, that unshy, brazen naivety shining through like it did two days ago, and Jensen is filled with hope. Jared stops a few feet away, dropping his messenger bag on the floor at his feet and fixing Jensen with a strong look, even as he shifts where he stands, a little unsure underneath it all.

“Have a seat, Jared?” Jensen gestures to the stage, and Jared goes over and hops up, sitting on the edge. It puts him just a little bit higher than Jensen, but Jensen has a sneaking suspicion that Jared is going to be taller than him anyway, when all is said and done. Jared watches anxiously as Jensen moves towards him, stopping just short of putting his hands on Jared’s knees. 

“Jared, I’m sorry about Wednesday – about how I left things with you. I don’t think I was very clear. I didn’t mean to let you think I wasn’t… that I don’t…” he takes a deep breath and lets himself get a little lost in the changing hazel of Jared’s eyes. “You have to understand, my private life… everything about it has been wrong for so long, I needed to do this right. For myself, and… for you.”  
  
He can feel that he has all of Jared’s attention, the weight of it and the boy’s hopes in his gaze. Jensen prays they’re hoping for the same thing. “I… I’ve left my wife, Jared.”

Jared’s eyes go wide now, almost comically so. A tentative smile breaks across his beautiful face and Jensen can’t help but mirror it, even though Jared looks as though he’s trying to stifle it, not look so excited or jump to the wrong conclusion.

“R-really?” Jared stutters out, a little wetly, and Jensen wants nothing more than to wrap Jared in his arms and keep him smiling forever.

“Yes, really,” Jensen answer easily. It feels so good to say, and he does reach for Jared, then. His hands light on each of Jared’s knees, which fall open instinctively so that Jensen can move between them. “I… don’t know what you see in an old man like me, Jared, but… if I was going to offer myself to you, I was going to offer all of me. If… if you’ll have me?”

He speaks in the close space between them then, and Jared chokes out a relieved, overwhelmed laugh-like breath, and tilts his head to wipe the corner of his eye on his shoulder. He’s enchanting, and Jensen is completely under his spell; he never wants to be anywhere else. Jared starts to nod a little and reach for Jensen’s shoulders but Jensen has to hear it.

“Is that a yes, Jared?” Jensen presses, desperate for the words.

“Y-yes. Yes, please,” Jared gets out, a little giddy, and Jensen doesn’t waste another second.

He reaches for Jared’s face and tips his chin up to kiss him. He wants to keep it chaste, at least to start, to go easy, but Jared undoes him. He has a lot to learn but his enthusiasm goes a long way, his mouth parting against Jensen’s as readily as the spread of his knees, and Jensen can’t turn down the invitation. It’s dangerous – doing this here – but Jensen can’t bring himself to care. Jared makes these tiny, broken sounds as Jensen’s tongue sweeps through his mouth, tasting all of him and drinking him in, more heady than any liquor Jensen knows.

Jensen controls the kiss, and soon Jared is mimicking what he does – unsurprisingly a quick study – slipping his tongue into Jensen’s mouth to taste, too. Jensen moans and sucks at the tip of it, thrilling when he feels Jared shiver at the pull. There’s a voice in the back of his mind trying to remind him where they are, that anyone could walk in and see, but Jared is a drug and he’s already flooded Jensen’s system completely. He’s losing control more with every second.

Jensen is trying to restrain himself, trying not to rush this because even though he's told Amelia it's over, and this was so much a part of that, Jared is _so_ young. He's a goddamn kid, Christ, and Jensen feels so fucking shameful for wanting him so badly, for letting him think for even a second that maybe Jensen _didn’t_ want him, but Jared didn't reject him. He's eager and Jensen can tell he's hasn't done much yet but it’s crystal clear he wants to, so much, and Jensen can't say no to his big, puppy dog eyes, especially not when he pushes Jensen back to give himself room to hop off the stage and then drops to the floor in between the spread of Jensen's feet to beg him so prettily, pleading, even though his hands tremble nervously while they clutch at the material of Jensen's pants on his thighs, tugging a little.  
  
"Please, Mr. Ackles," Jared breathes, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he hovers in front of Jensen’s fly, looking up at him with such longing that Jensen knows it’s not even a question; he never stood a chance.

But Jensen's heart stutters in his chest – he can't have that, have Jared calling him that, not when they're like this now, not with what Jared is asking to do, even though it makes him burn a little hotter inside, too. He reaches down, one hand covering Jared's on his leg and the other to cup his face, his thumb stroking over Jared's cheek.  
  
"Just– Jensen, now, okay?"  
  
Jared nods quickly even as the flush in his cheeks impossibly deepens.  
  
"Jensen, please. Let me?" He asks again and the hand that Jensen isn't covering braves further up his leg, teasing, trying, tentatively getting closer to the undeniable bulge in Jensen's pants that presses aggressively against his zipper. Jensen tries not to choke. He squeezes Jared's hand and doesn't trust himself to speak, he can only nod. He lets go of Jared then and makes himself relax back against the stage. He only barely finds his voice when Jared's shaky fingers make it to his belt, and the silent question in Jared's eyes coaxes a hushed "it's okay, go ahead, baby" from him. He doesn't mean to call Jared that, he hasn't called anyone that before – it just slips out – but Jared's face softens at the name and he seems encouraged, undoing the buckle and moving to the button and zipper behind.  
  
Jensen can't imagine anyone wants this more than he does, after a lifetime of stilted, awkward, unwanted sexual experiences with his wife, but when Jared looks at him from under the mess of his bangs as he opens Jensen's pants, Jensen is overwhelmed by the desperate want he sees in Jared's eyes. It looks like how he feels, and even though so much makes him worry that this is wrong, and they really, _really_ shouldn’t be doing this here, what he sees in Jared’s face makes him realize _they’re_ right – this thing between them, it just has to be. Jensen can't stay still, the nervous energy and anticipation making it hard for him to let his hands be, so he gently brushes Jared's hair back behind his ears, keeps the fingers of one hand laced in it, trying not to hold on too tightly even though he wants to just to steady himself. Jared reaches into the slit in Jensen's briefs and when his fingers meet Jensen's overheated, achingly hard dick, Jensen can't help but gasp and shudder. He's never felt like this in his entire life. He doesn't mean to, but he tugs Jared's hair as reflex. Jared echoes him then, gasping and shuddering but leaning into it, chasing the pull with a blissed out expression on his face, his own grip tightening around Jensen's cock as he pulls it out.  
  
"Jared– Jared, you... like that?" Jensen rasps out. Jared bites his lip and nods wordlessly, blushing a furious red as he pulls against the grip Jensen has in his hair, testing it, and his lashes flutter at the pleasure of it.  
  
"Shit," Jensen hisses, and there's something burning in him, a churning low in his stomach, wild and rising and it feels a little bit dangerous. "Okay. Okay, baby. Keep goin'."  
  
Jared sighs in relief as he leans forward, holding Jensen with a hand lightly wrapped around the base of him, and places an almost chaste kiss to the head of Jensen's cock. Jensen has to close his eyes because the sight alone has him dangerously close already. It's embarrassing but Jared is making him feel like a damn teenager, like this is his first time, too, though in many ways it might as well be. His eyes fly open when he feels the tip of Jared's tongue press and wiggle into his leaking slit. Jared's eyes are closed and he lets out a little moan, then starts to suck at the head, gentle, then starts to experiment with his tongue, rolling it in a wave just under the crown, and Jensen is white knuckling Jared's hair now, holding on for dear life.

He's not going to make it much longer, fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_. Jared looks sublime, his lips obscenely wide around the width of Jensen's dick but pursed tight as he keeps on sucking, spit escaping the corners of his mouth and making it messy. He’s sucking harder now, like he's trying to drink Jensen down – like he's about to be doing. He's breathing loudly through his nose, but he starts to try and take more of Jensen into his mouth without pulling off, the throbbing pull of his mouth getting faster, insistent, more desperate. Jensen fights the urge to pull Jared down, to force himself in, but only just; he does tug enough to encourage him – an aborted jerk of his hand in Jared's hair – but Jared only whimpers and sinks deeper onto his cock.  
  
He splutters as it's too much too fast, and Jensen panics. His fingers relax and he lets go of Jared's head to let him up, leaning forward instinctively and reaching for his face.  
  
"Jared– I'm sorry, I–"  
  
But Jared is shaking his head, his hair moving wildly. His eyes are glistening and wet at the corners but he looks so painfully beautiful, his face cradled in Jensen's palms. Jared's fingers circle his wrists and pull his arms away, out of the way, and he takes a deep, rough breath.  
  
"It's okay, I'm okay. I wanna– just– let me, please. You... taste so good," the last part is whispered and let out in a rush, barely brave enough to admit, possibly unsure he wants Jensen to hear it, and it's said with such earnestness that want spikes through Jensen, hot and sharp.  
  
"Fuck, baby– you're killing me. I'm not– not going to last very long, I'm sorry."  
  
Jared's eyes go wide, seemingly awed that he could be having this effect. He blinks once then dips down again, taking Jensen back into his mouth with purpose. Jensen's whole body shudders to return to that tight, wet heat, then he reaches to put his hands on the back of Jared's head, not pulling or pushing, just an easy, constant pressure, his fingers twitching against Jared's soft, messy hair. Jared sucks eagerly at his dick, hungry for it, and jacks what he can't fit in his mouth with choppy, uncoordinated squeezes. It's sloppy and new but it's Jared and he's perfect. Jensen is right there, barrelling towards his release. He tries to speak, gets out a broken, stuttered _Jared_ , and tries to pull him off, but Jared only keens and keeps at it. Jensen's body seizes as he comes, his breath rushing out of him on a long, low groan, and he pulses into Jared's mouth. Jared backs off after the first wave on a loud, broken moan, but keeps Jensen cradled on his lower lip, come splattering across his face and dripping down his chin with his spit because it's filling his mouth faster than he can swallow.

Jensen pants, fighting to catch his breath, his knees shaking as he leans heavily on against the stage, and Jared does the same, blinking up at him with a flushed face covered in Jensen’s come. The sight makes Jensen’s spent dick twitch against Jared’s loose hold, and he reaches for Jared’s chin, tugging him up.

“Come here, baby,” Jensen gets out huskily, and Jared clumsily tucks Jensen back into his briefs before stumbling to his feet, looking dazed. “So good, Jared. You were so good.”  
  
Jensen murmurs against Jared’s swollen lips and cleans him up with small, sucking kisses and little licks. Jared whines brokenly as Jensen does it, clinging to Jensen’s sweater like he might drop back to the floor if he doesn’t. Jensen reaches down with one hand to take care of Jared, finally feel whatever he’s hiding under those uniform pants, but Jared whimpers and pulls back from his kisses. Jensen is just about to ask if Jared’s okay when his fingers brush a damp spot on Jared’s trousers and as the realization hits him, Jensen’s words turn involuntarily to a groan and heat spikes through him again.

“Jared, beautiful boy,” he starts, and kisses him deeply. “Did you come from that? From sucking me off?”

Jared nods, flustered, and looks away, sheepish. Jensen turns his face back towards him and kisses him again.

“Christ, that’s hot,” Jensen mumbles against his lips, until Jared pulls back to look at him.

“Really?” He asks, just above a whisper.

“Really,” Jensen smiles. “You– you’re going to be my ruin, Jared.”  
  
Jared’s face lights up in echo of Jensen’s smile, and he leans forward to kiss him. Jensen lets him a moment, then eases him back.

“We really shouldn’t stay here. Can you– what are the school’s rules? Can you come with me?” Jensen lets him go begrudgingly to adjust himself and do up his pants.

Jared looks as though Jensen told him Christmas just came early.

“Yeah– yes. I mean, it’s Friday. People leave for the weekend all the time. I don’t usually because home is so far, but…”

Jensen smiles back at him and can only just keep the thought to himself that he can be Jared’s home now. His thoughts astound him; he’s never been such a romantic. He supposes that’s a function of the loveless life he led until now, but it’s definitely new territory.

“Good. Did you want to change, or… grab some things? I’ll pull around to the front of the school. If that’s– is that okay?” Jensen makes himself ask, giving Jared the out. He has to know he can say no to him. The last thing Jensen wants is to take advantage, take away the knowledge that it’s all Jared’s choice. Jensen would do anything for him; it’s Jared who holds the power. 

Jared gives him a goofy grin that tells him how ridiculous he thinks Jensen is for having asked.

“It’s more than okay. I’ll meet you out in front in ten,” Jared says in a happy rush, reaching for his bag and taking a few steps towards the door before turning and smiling demurely. “Jensen.”

He says Jensen’s name with a soft confidence and Jensen knows it’s just because he can. Jensen’s lips quirk up warmly and he watches him go, feeling happier than he can ever remember being.

 

\---

 

This day doesn’t even feel real. Jared stares at himself in the massive mirror of Jensen’s ensuite bathroom and he sees himself, knows this is where he is – the ritziest hotel Jared’s ever set foot in – and this is who he’s with – Jensen freakin’ Ackles, the goddamned Oscar-nominated director – but it all sounds so unreal he can’t be sure what he’s seeing isn’t a dream. Not that what or who Jensen is on that scale means much to Jared; he’s positive if Jensen walked by him on the street, some unknown accountant or who knows what, Jared would have been just as doomed. There’s just something about him. Jared might never have been in love before now but he’s pretty sure that love like this, it’s fated. He could never feel like this about someone else.

Jensen’s life could make Jared feel small and out of place – he drives James Bond’s car, for fuck’s sake! – but Jensen doesn’t let it. He’s attentive, and focused, and talks to Jared like he’s somehow just as special as Jensen. They stopped at an In and Out Burger on the way to the hotel and got greasy food to go. Jared swears he can still feel Jensen’s hand in the small of his back from where he easily guided him from the valet out front of the hotel to his suite, which might actually be bigger than Jared’s home back in Texas, but he can’t be 100% sure because he’s only really followed Jensen from the foyer to the smaller, more intimate table where they ate in Jensen’s room, and now the adjoining bathroom where he’s trying to wrap his head around all this.

Jared hasn’t ever been on a real date before, so he can’t compare with personal experience, but he’s pretty sure this has been an amazing one. Jared is nervous but not like he thought he’d be. The way that Jensen looks at him calms him, he feels comfortable like somehow he already belongs here, and every time Jared’s afraid he’s said something stupid Jensen laughs like he’s never seen him do before at rehearsal. It’s big and full-bodied, and crinkles explode from the corner of Jensen’s eyes like fireworks. He knows quickly that he’ll say the dumbest things without hesitation if it means getting to see Jensen laugh like that.

It hasn’t even occurred to him that whatever they’re doing is just for tonight, or this weekend. Jensen, he– he _left his wife_. Jared’s heart feels so big he’s not sure how it fits behind his ribs. Jensen has given up so much, is giving _Jared_ so much, and Jared doesn’t have a lot to give back but Jensen has to know it’s all his – everything Jared is, it’s Jensen’s.

He looks at himself in the mirror again and feels a little sheepish. Jensen is the most beautiful person Jared has ever seen, and he’s worked with beautiful Hollywood actors, and Jared… Jared is seventeen with a messy mop of hair and a body he hasn’t fully grown into yet. He’s tall and long limbed and kind of gangly, too thin because he’s been growing up faster than he can grow out. He blushes even as he looks over himself, and takes a deep breath.

_This is real. Jensen is real, he really wants you, and you can do this._

He pulls his t-shirt up over his head and shakes his head to settle his hair, then goes for his jeans. He kicks away the pile of clothes and stands there in his grey boxer-briefs, trying not to lose his courage. He’s not brave enough to go out there completely naked, but he’s pretty sure this will be enough to get his message across. He’s half hard already just getting ready, the anticipation more than his inexperienced, excited heart can handle. He takes one last big, deep breath with his hand paused on the doorknob, and then just goes for it.

 

\---

 

The evening has been incredibly pleasant and surprisingly easy. Jared is a delight, makes him laugh so much he feels it in his stomach, and Jensen feels rejuvenated just being with him. They come from different worlds but the conversation has come naturally, so Jensen has been losing time in Jared’s company. But Jared’s been in the bathroom a while now. It’s been quiet, and in his brief absence, Jensen’s nerves have ratcheted up to eleven. It’s gotten quite late, and now that they’re here Jensen wonders if he should be offering to drive Jared back. It’s not that he doesn’t want him here – far from it – but he took Jared from the school in a moment where his judgment might have been clouded by the feel of Jared’s mouth on his cock and subsequent orgasm-induced haze. Now it’s getting near midnight and they’re in Jensen’s hotel and maybe Jared is hiding from him. Jensen wouldn’t blame him, either. Sitting on the edge of his bed just to keep from anxiously pacing, Jensen can imagine the pressure Jared must be feeling in this situation, and maybe it’s too much too fast?

Jensen sighs and ditches his sweater, tossing it over the edge of a nearby chair. He tugs his tie loose just to give himself a little room to breathe and drums his fingers on his knees, trying to figure out the words to offer Jared to put him more at ease when he finally comes out of the bathroom.

As if on cue, the handle turns and Jensen’s eyes fly to the door just as Jared emerges.

In nothing but his underwear. 

He freezes when his eyes meet Jensen’s, and the pink in his cheeks darkens. His shifts a little like he’s not sure what to do with his hands, but lets them fall to his sides and stands there obviously for Jensen to look over.

Jensen’s breath gets momentarily trapped in his throat at the sight, and he lets his eyes roam as Jared smiles at him shyly. Jared is all long limbs and lean muscle, smooth skin that Jensen wants to kiss all over, and he’s hard, a wet spot forming where he’s tenting his briefs with what is an impressively long dick. Jensen’s mouth waters and he swallows hard.

Jared takes an unsteady step towards him and the movement snaps Jensen out of his stupor.

“Jared, you don’t–” he has to clear his throat to try again. “You don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do this tonight.”

Jared doesn’t hesitate then, just moves back into Jensen’s orbit with a hand on each of his shoulders, and he knees his way onto the bed, straddling Jensen’s hips and finally settling down in Jensen’s lap, his sweet little ass resting soft and tempting on top of Jensen’s rapidly growing interest.

“I know that. But I want to,” Jared answers, leaning in to say it against Jensen’s ear before placing a tiny kiss to the shell of it. 

Jensen doesn’t even remember getting his hands on Jared’s hips but he slides them around to palm the soft skin of Jared’s back, and groans as he buries his face in Jared’s neck.

“Do you… do you want to?” Jared asks, and there’s a note in his voice that betrays his show of confidence, reminds Jensen all at once how young he is, that it would be his first time, and– _Christ_ – Jensen’s never actually done this either. He leans back to make sure Jared is looking at him.

“So much, Jared. I really, really do. But I–” Jensen’s voice breaks and he has to swallow hard, dig deep to admit this. “I haven’t ever actually done this before. Not– not with a–”  
  
He sighs.  Jared looks uncertain – eager, but anxious – and Jensen just doesn’t want to keep secrets from him. He wants to do this _right_. “I haven’t been with anyone but my– but her, ever. And not for a very long time.”  
  
He has to stifle a laugh. He sounds pathetic, and it makes him cringe inside but he has to get this out. “This is… it’s big, Jared. And I promise you, I want to make it good. I don’t want to ever hurt you. You– you deserve the best and I’m going to try to give it to you, okay? But only if you’re ready.”  
  
He’s whispering by the time he’s done, not intentionally. Jared’s eyes have softened, too, and they somehow seem closer, just the two of them not only in this tiny space they’ve created but maybe, in this moment, the whole world. 

He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of Jared’s hair behind his ear, keeping his hand cradling Jared’s face, his thumb stroking his cheek, feeling it push up as Jared grins.

“I’m ready,” he says earnestly. “I– I want it to be you. Want… to be yours,” his cheeks flush impossibly deeper, and he looks away quickly, hiding his face against Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen’s heart flutters furiously. Jared is so genuine and pure and somehow all his. Jensen doesn’t know how he could be so lucky, never even dared to dream he could be, but here they are.

“Okay, baby. Okay,” Jensen practically purrs as he reaches for Jared’s face and kisses him, relaxing completely into the permission Jared has given him. “Lay down for me.”

Jared is all eager puppy as he clumsily lifts himself off Jensen’s lap and tries, unsuccessfully, to calmly clamber up the bed. Jensen smiles fondly and stands, keeping his gaze on Jared as he turns over, lying on his back and looking up at him with those big, bright eyes of his. As he settles, Jensen can see how Jared trembles a little, the stilted movements as he decides what to do with his limbs – his knees spread wantonly and unashamed, one hand on his shaking belly and the other playing absentmindedly on the hotel comforter – but Jared is still smiling – glowing, really – and Jensen might not be able to contain himself either except for the lifetime of practice.

He starts to undress, eyes locked with Jared’s. He tugs his tie away and feels that faint sense of danger again, low in his stomach and making his dick twitch – the image of Jared tied up with it flashing before his eyes unbidden and Jensen almost hesitates to toss the scrap of silk away but files the idea for another day instead. He sheds his shirt and wonders if Jared knows he’s licking his lips as Jensen bares his skin for him. He makes quick work of his belt and kicks his shoes off at the same time. He undoes the button and zipper of his slacks and as he tucks his thumbs inside both his pants and the elastic of his briefs, he’s not sure he’s ever been so turned on just to be naked. He drops everything then, sighing as his achingly hard cock bounces free, and he watches as Jared shifts, his own dick jumping just to finally see all of Jensen, the wet spot on his underwear getting darker.

He lets Jared look as long as he can bare to stand there, and Jared starts to reach for him as soon as Jensen finally makes a move for the bed. He stalks up the bed on his hands and knees, into the open spread of Jared’s legs, and he can’t help but feel predatory for the motion, and the stark contrast between their bodies – one a man’s, one just a boy’s on the cusp. Jensen is on fire, his stomach twisting hotly as he thinks of it, as Jared’s fingers light on his skin like he can’t believe he’s really allowed to touch, and Jensen knows Jared is putting him in touch with parts of himself he never knew existed. The way he wants Jared, the things he can’t help but think of doing to him – _fuck._

Jensen leans down and kisses Jared’s open mouth, tracing the inside of his lips with his tongue, then backing off despite the tiny, protestant whimper Jared makes when he does.

“Relax, baby. Just let me,” Jensen murmurs, moving to kiss along Jared’s jaw, nibble at his earlobe, then lick and kiss his way down the curve of Jared’s neck. Jared squirms a little under Jensen’s mouth as he moves down his chest, and Jensen revels in the way he gasps when Jensen first seals his lips over one of Jared’s pointed, pink nipples and sucks. Jensen smiles against Jared’s skin and flicks the nub with his tongue. Jared’s hands fly to Jensen’s head, his fingers digging into the short hair at the back of his neck, and Jensen is only encouraged to keep going now. He drags his teeth over it next, tugging gently, and he can’t help but tilt his face to look up and see how Jared’s back arches down into the bed, his head back and pushed into the pillow as he moans. Jared is so responsive to everything Jensen is doing and Jensen can feel his dick leaking with anticipation. He places a chaste kiss to the nipple he was doting on and moves to the other, paying it the same attention with a mix of his lips, tongue, and teeth.

Jared is panting by the time Jensen sees fit to have a little mercy, both for Jared’s sake and his own. His boy is flushed down to this belly button, blotchy red spreading down his neck and chest, so worked up his hips move restlessly under Jensen all the while. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat that glistens in the low light and catches pieces of his hair, keeping them stuck in places on his forehead and cheeks. His lips are dark and swollen from how he’s been biting them, and Jensen has never seen anything so beautiful.

He sits back on his heels between Jared’s legs and caresses Jared’s sides gently with warm, soft palms. Jared clearly wrestles with his breathing, trying to calm himself but too far gone. He watches Jensen through heavy lidded eyes, completely debauched, open and wanting in a way Jensen wants to be worthy of. He slides his hands down Jared’s sides and gets his fingers in the band of Jared’s underwear, then pauses.

“Tell me to do it, Jared,” Jensen says, his voice gravely and wrecked but still clear and commanding. Jared is nodding before he can find his own words.

“Yes, please. Please, Jensen. Do it,” Jared breathes out in a rush, the way he begs him music to Jensen’s ears.

Jensen smiles and can feel how dark it is as he tugs Jared’s underwear down and off, shuffling back on the bed so Jared can get each leg out. Jared settles back down on the bed and Jensen looks at him sympathetically. His long, teenage boy dick is an angry purple-red, shiny wet at the tip and drooling onto his stomach. There’s no way Jared is going to last long at this point, Jensen is sure, but then, Jensen figures it might help this go easier. He leans down and kisses at the sharp edges of Jared’s hip bones and this close, Jared’s private, musky scent makes up most of his breath and he groans for it, his mouth watering. He laps at the precome shining on Jared’s belly, and Jared shudders when he next takes the head of Jared’s dick into his mouth.

“ _J-Jensen_ ,” Jared cries out, keening. Jensen hums happily around his mouthful, the way the shape feels stretching his lips, the weight on his tongue and the salty burst that makes him want to just drink Jared down entirely. It’s more perfect than Jensen could have ever imagined, but Jensen is quickly going out of his mind. He wants inside Jared and Jared still needs prep. He makes himself let go of Jared’s dick, pulling off with a wet _pop_ and the echo of an anguished sigh from Jared.

“Flip over, Jared,” Jensen barely gets out, his voice husky and rough like he’s never heard it. “Trust me, sweetheart. Hands and knees.”  
  
Jensen is pretty sure Jared meant to say okay but his lips move soundlessly apart from his ragged breathing and he scrambles to do as Jensen asked, as responsive to Jensen’s requests as his body is to Jensen’s touch. Jensen is sure, more with every passing moment, Jared really is going to be his ruin.

Jared gets on his hands and knees as instructed and then instinctively dips down, his shoulders low and his back bowed. Jensen clamps a hand around the base of his own throbbing cock, because _Jesus Christ_ – the motion puts Jared’s hips back and ass up, his cheeks parting a little, presenting, and Jensen groans like a dying a man at the sight.

“Jensen?” Jared asks quietly, breathless, and tries to look back past his shoulder.

“Yeah, baby,” Jensen answers quickly, reaching a hand out to palm Jared’s ass in a way he meant as reassuring but turns possessive and a little rough. “You look– fuck. You’re killing me. Just– stay like that, Jared. Tell me–” his throat is tight and dry as he makes himself say it “–tell me if you want me to stop.”

Jensen doesn’t waste another moment – he can’t. He’s nearly coming apart at the seams, dizzy with want for everything Jared gives him so readily, and he’s got both hands on the smooth globes of Jared’s ass, pressing them open to show him Jared’s tight, pink, twitching hole. He’s fairly certain Jared started to say something but the sound is quickly lost when Jensen leans forward to lick up Jared’s crease, over the winking muscle. The smell and taste of Jared is so much more here, even more heady and dangerous than when Jensen had him in his mouth, and Jensen is suddenly ravenous. His whole life has been so contained, so controlled, so far away from this, from this want he didn’t know he could feel. He goes at Jared’s asshole ruthlessly, licking, nipping and sucking. It’s loud, wet, and sloppy – Jensen can feel his own spit trickle under his chin – and Jared is pushing back against his face and moaning like he can’t get enough either. Jensen finally wiggles his tongue inside, the ring of muscle giving way enough for the tip, and Jared gasps above him, his knees buckling. He recovers right away, groaning and pushing into Jensen again, mumbling incoherently broken iterations of Jensen’s name peppered with curses. Jensen would chuckle if he could. Instead, he keeps pressing in, plunging deep as Jared’s body will allow him to. Even when his tongue is in as far as it can be, Jensen is unsatisfied. It’s not enough. He wants to turn Jared inside out. He withdraws his tongue just long enough to make Jared whine frantically at the loss while he sucks one of his fingers into his mouth to soak it. In the next moment he’s got his tongue back in and his finger slipping in alongside it. Jared’s hole is so wet with Jensen’s spit and soft from the tongue fucking he gets his finger in all the way to the third knuckle in one smooth motion. Jensen groans for the feel of it – the hot, clutching pull of Jared’s body. Jared keens and when Jensen crooks his finger, stroking Jared’s prostate, he cries out and comes untouched, making a mess underneath him as his body squeezes around Jensen’s tongue and finger like a vice. Jensen leans back to watch, keeping his finger pressed where it was inside Jared’s body, feeling him shudder and pulse. Jensen holds off his own orgasm with a tight hold at the base of his dick, watching the final drips from Jared’s drop down onto the comforter below him. Jared sighs and sways a little, looking completely wrecked and boneless, sweat pooled in the dimples of his back, behind his knees, and pasting his hair to his neck.

Finally, Jensen withdraws his finger, petting gently at Jared’s softened hole before moving back a little. He leans forward to grab an extra pillow, turning to quickly kiss Jared’s salty cheek as he does.  
  
“I’m going to make this easy for you. Okay, sweetheart? Just relax,” Jensen whispers and then he sits back, tucking the pillow under Jared’s hips, covering the mess he made, and he tugs Jared’s legs back so he’s lying down, ass still up for the pillow under him. Jared moves for him like a puppet whose strings have been cut, completely loose, and he hums happily as Jensen poses him.

“Okay, Jensen,” he sighs, content, and Jensen smiles as he finishes putting him into position.

Jensen goes for the drawer in the nightstand next, for the lube and condoms he stashed there. Jared turns his head to watch at the sound of the crinkling package, and Jensen’s hand slows on his dick where he’s slicking it up.

“Is this– you still have to tell me, Jared,” Jensen says with all the strength he can muster despite his painfully hard cock.

“Jensen, _please_ ,” Jared begs again, tilting his hips up in invitation. Jensen sighs in relief and goes back to Jared’s hole with two lubed up fingers. They go in easy, like slicing into warm butter, and Jared is shifting restlessly and making more small, desperate sounds by the time Jensen gets a third in, just to be sure.

“Jared, I–” Jensen chokes a little, not able to wait another minute. “I gotta– I need– need to be in you. Relax for me, baby.”

He presses the head of his cock against Jared’s hole and it pops in with little resistance. Jared sucks in a breath and Jensen stills, making himself sink in slowly with restraint he didn’t know he had. Jared makes an almost pained sound but pushes back against Jensen to take him deeper and Jensen can’t hold back anymore, bottoming out as he drapes himself over Jared’s body.

“Oh, fuck,” Jensen bites out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. _Jared_ –” Jensen is done. Whatever coherence he had left is gone. He open mouth kisses at Jared’s shoulder, sloppy, breathing hot against his skin, and then props himself up for better leverage. He starts up a slow rhythm, pulling back and pushing in. Jared is so _tight_ and so much better than he thought sex could ever be. He’s been riding the edge for so long, so close to the edge just getting Jared there, that he knows this is going to be over unfortunately quickly. He starts to punch in faster and harder despite himself, at the mercy of how much he needs this, and Jared makes these broken, needy noises every time Jensen can’t get in any deeper.

“M– more, Jensen. P– please,” Jared pleads, stuttering in time with Jensen’s thrusts, and Jensen is going to break right out of his skin. He distantly realizes that Jared is rubbing down into the pillow as Jensen fucks him, must be hard again – fucking seventeen – and Jensen is right there, on the edge.

“C’mon, baby, that’s it. Come again for me, Jared, fuck–” he growls it low and forceful against the shell of Jared’s ear as he slams into him, and then he ducks his head down and bites into the meat of Jared’s shoulder. Jared cries out and bears down on Jensen as he comes, taking Jensen with him. Jensen gasps, his teeth letting go and leaving marks in Jared’s otherwise flawless skin, and he groans Jared’s name long and low as he fills the condom, coming harder than he ever has before. He collapses onto Jared’s back before he’s done, all his strength completely gone, and he vaguely registers the grunt Jared makes as Jensen no doubt crushes him.

Jared doesn’t say anything though, just stays burning hot and soft beneath him, and Jensen can feel when Jared’s heartbeat has stopped thundering quite so hard, same as his, with his chest pressed to Jared’s back. Sighing, he finally reaches down to pinch the base of the condom and pulls out, their skin hissing as it unsticks. Jared makes a sound like a small sob and worry floods Jensen’s system. _Oh god, he went too hard. It was too much. He’s hurt him, just like he said he wouldn’t and–_

“Jared?” Jensen prompts quickly, trying to halt the dizzy spiral of this thoughts, and presses his free hand gently to Jared’s side.

Jared mumbles something too quiet to hear and Jensen’s fears are not allayed.

“Jared, baby, are you okay? Did I– did I hurt you?” Jensen pushes again, desperate. His eyes find the teeth marks on Jared’s shoulder and a flash of shame goes through him – how could he do that?

“No, no. I’m– I’m okay– I’m great, Jensen. You– it was amazing. I just… wish you could stay inside me all the time…”  
  
Jared has half rolled over to look at Jensen as he says it, even though he quickly looks down as if he’s embarrassed to admit it. Jensen feels fierce want spike through him at Jared’s words and he can’t believe the gift that Jared is.

“Oh, Jared,” Jensen sighs, so undeniably in love with this _kid_ who came out of nowhere and turned Jensen’s life completely upside down.

He makes quick work of the condom and tosses it in the nearby wastebasket. Jared watches him as he pulls back the covers and slides in on the side of the bed, and when he raises and arm to invite Jared to him, Jared moves as quickly as his fucked-out body allows to slip inside and curl up against Jensen’s chest.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Jensen asks quietly, his lips pressed to the top of Jared’s head, his arms wrapped around his slim body, hugging him close.

Jared makes a muffled half snort half laugh at that and Jensen blinks, tipping his head down and leaning back to look at the goofy grin on Jared’s face.

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Jared whispers, his smile getting quiet as he looks up into Jensen’s face with that earnestness that makes Jensen’s heart feel two times bigger.

Jensen should be more worried about being the caretaker for a heart as pure and perfect as Jared’s, but instead he’s just excited. He wants to give this boy the world, and he’s going to. Jensen is so overwhelmed by the rush of it, and Jared’s eyes have drifted closed, his body soft against Jensen as their exertions and the late hour weigh on him, that Jensen feels safe enough to say as much.

“I’m going to give you the world, Jared. Everything I can. Anything you want, it’s yours,” he whispers, kissing Jared’s forehead, not even sure Jared hears him, possibly already asleep.

He feels Jared’s lips curve against his skin – clearly not asleep then – and Jared’s eyes flutter open just enough to meet Jensen’s again. 

“I’m going to marry you someday, Jensen Ackles,” he says quietly, grinning smugly and proud between them with such a subtle certainty that Jensen can only bark out a tiny laugh and shake his head. He’s equal parts amazed by Jared’s brazenness and relieved to know that Jared really does want him – indefinitely. He gives Jared a little squeeze and leans into press their smiles together, to answer him between kisses.

“Yeah, baby. Someday, you really will,” he can feel when Jared hums happily into their kiss, and as they settle and Jared’s breathing evens out as he falls asleep, Jensen is ready for whatever may come, ready to go to the ends of the earth to protect this – protect Jared – his second chance at life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked, kudos and comments are super appreciated. Thanks for the read, and thanks for the love!


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